


Overtime

by hollowedyves



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Banter, M/M, Pre-Slash, Snark, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowedyves/pseuds/hollowedyves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q doesn't get paid enough for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overtime

**Author's Note:**

> Q's "real name" based off a headcanon I read somewhere else.

“What are you wearing?” James asked conversationally with a slight dark undercurrent to his tone. 

“A cardigan, a shirt and trousers,” Q replied dryly. 

“I meant _under_ that,” Bond amended, chuckling.

“Shame you’re not here to find out,” Q countered, taking a sip of his rapidly cooling tea. 

“Don’t...torture me, you know I won’t be home for at least another few days.”

“Then interpret the torture as....incentive.” 

“I don’t need any more incentive to want to fuck you until you’re stupid than I already do.” 

After a few moments of silence, Q said, “You’ll have to do better than that.” It was supposed to come out challenging, but he had suspected his voice cracked at the end. 

He thought he heard James chuckle darkly under his breath on the other end. 

“Tristan,” James rumbled, his voice pitched lower, “When I get back to London, I’m going to rip whatever ridiculous cardigan you have on off and throw you on the bed. I’m going to bite the rest of the buttons off your shirt and take you apart....bite your neck and over your chest and the insides of your thighs...never touching you until you drip onto the bedsheets and beg me in that breathless voice of yours to —” 

“Enough,” Q interrupted, his face splotched with red and no longer able to find a comfortable sitting position. “I didn’t mean for you to suddenly become a phone sex operator. We are still working.” 

“I’m hardly a phone sex operator, they get paid for what they do, and they unfortunately do not cater to a single person. And,” James added, “I don’t think that most of them do their job whilst hiding in some bushes for a few hours.” 

“Perhaps you’ve missed your true calling?” Q offered, ghosting his fingers over the keys of his computer. 

“Mm,” Bond replied noncommittally.

They were both silent for a few minutes. Finally, Q said, “I miss you.” 

“You’ve spoken to me every single day for a week and a half.” 

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” Q shot back. 

“Your life must be very difficult,” James cooed. 

“I’m sure there were easier things I could have done with my life, but this seemed the most exciting. However, I never thought that I would be regularly sharing a bed and a home with the infamous double-oh-seven —” 

“Hush,” James admonished. “We’re on the comms line.” 

Q rolled his eyes. “ _Now_ you’re worried about being on the comms? Christ. But don’t worry, there’s no one else here. No one else is interested in staying after hours to listen to you rustle about in the bushes.” 

  
“Honestly, I’m not interested in that much either,” James conceded. “But here we are.” 

“Yes,” Q agreed. “Here we are.” 

He heard James shift. “How much time have I got left?” 

  
“At least another 45 minutes.” 

“Apparently they have a lot to talk about inside that warehouse,” James grumbled. 

“What do you think mob bosses do? Make coffee, sort mail?” Q laughed.

“Lash people to chairs and pry off their fingernails? I’m disappointed in you, you should know they hire less interesting people to make their coffee for them.”

“Excuse me,” Q answered haughtily. “I haven’t had the time to study the intricate workings of the Russian mob, I’ve had my hands full with a few things.” 

“I’m sure you'd like to have more than just your hands full,” James purred suggestively. 

Q sighed heavily. “I’ve had my hands full with babysitting a fully grown man.” 

“What a shame. He should really get his shit together.” 

“Couldn’t agree more.” 

Opening a few files, Q began typing away at something mostly to keep him semi-awake and alert to guide his charge to safety. They sat in comfortable silence until James noisily shifted and said, “They’re coming out now.” 

“Well then. Stop lazing about and do your job, 007.”

James smirked. “Yes, sir.” 

 

 


End file.
